amnh internship


In case anyone is wondering what archivists actually do when they say they’re processing collections and writing finding aids, here’s me doing it. And making stupid faces because I like doing that, too.

When you get a collection to process that’s been in the archives for a while, it generally comes in an acid-free box. Oftentimes there will be subfolders within the box. When a new collection comes in, you often just get stacks of paper thrown into a random box and have to make the folders yourself and rehouse fragile materials and documents in acid-free folders and boxes before getting started (including removing staples and paper clips in some cases). In this case, I’m processing a collection that’s been here for a while, so it’s already in folders.

The next step is going through each folder to determine exactly what’s in the collection. This helps you choose information to put into the finding aid. I usually take very extensive notes during this step because I take very extensive notes on everything ever, but whatever helps you remember what’s in each folder is fine.

Once you know what’s in all your folders, you can move on to working on making the collection accessible for researchers. The collection I’m currently working on in these photos is a bit disjointed, so right now I’m rehousing some of the individual pieces into folders that make more sense for them to be in. You usually don’t do this unless you have to - there’s something called original order that means that you try to keep things in the order the creator of the collection had them in - but sometimes things are rearranged slightly for researchers, especially if there appears to be no significance to the order the documents are in.

Now it’s time to put together our finding aid. To do that, we use a form document so all our finding aids are consistent. We put in all the metadata information - gross, I know - and then fill out container and box lists. Those work like this:

  • Series: A subdivision of a collection that is self-contained (not physically as some series are really long)
  • Box: Sometimes collections physically come in more than one box, so list the box number
  • Folder: Each folder in a series gets a number so that the files stay organized
  • Notes, encompassing dates, etc.

So as you can see, there’s a reason I take all those notes when I’m going through the collection - when I add something to the ‘notes’ section, it’s usually about anything important in the folder so that a researcher can find it with a keyword search when the finding aid goes online!

And that is what an archivist is doing when they tell you they’re processing a collection or writing a finding aid.

anonymous asked:

Could I request a scenario with Makoto, Rin, Sousuke, and Kisumi where they're pretty nervous around their s/o and get flustered because their s/o did something cute?

but you guys should really listen to Clear Blue Notes, the Free! ES soundtrack because lot of the instrumentals there are the bomb…especially for you multi instrumentalist anon ;) 

on a side note, sorry i haven’t posted in like two days? IB gets you busy, and I just started my internship at AMNH, which was like 8 hrs on Sat and Sun. But I should have alot more time to write now if school doesn’t eat me alive.

and also, I should be opening the ask box soon, and I will make a PSA about what’s new and what isn’t after discussing it with Admin Astrid. - Admin Tito

Makoto: Makoto watched as you kept rubbing your clothed hands together, trying to find warm solice in this late winter night. He wanted to offer something, a hug, a heated kiss, anything to keep you comfortable. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it; he was so nervous around you he couldn’t bring him self to act as jaunty and open as he usually was, always under the impression he’d do something wrong. Makoto remained, stiff in position, until he felt your arms wrap around one of his, hands clutching the now warming fleece. He looked down, cheeks and neck now a crimson red, to see you smiling contently as you closed your eyes and snuggled closer.

“I hope you don’t mind.” You chide with a slight chuckle as you two cross the street. “I’m just really cold.”

“I, uh…” Makoto stuttered, not knowing whether to sacrifice your comfort or his. But he couldn’t help but allow you to lean on him even more after seeing how happy and comfortable you were getting, especially on his limb, thought to be rock hard arm. He clasped one slightly trembling hand on top of yours and squeezed it. It was ridiculous to even consider what he should do.

“No, I don’t mind”


“You’ve got to watch your step-”

“I can handle it, Rin” You grit your teeth and glared at the carmine haired boy, who just smirked at you. He really knew how to get a rise out of you.

“You could step on a broken sea shell at any moment” Rin taunted you as he squeezed your hand that he held and pulled you close to his body. Warmth radiated across your face as you hated how teasing he was acting today, just because you may have stepped on a rolled up tissue paper the other day in Rin’s and absolutely freaked out. You pushed away from his grasp, leaving him in a cruel cackle as you looked out to the cerulean ocean where the cool wind seemed to come from. Closing your eyes, you walk a few more steps, feeling the sand tickle and seep through your toes, no harm done. Or at least you would’ve thought.

Fuck” You curse loudly as you feel a broken shard of what looked like a sea shell poke you. There wasn’t any damage, but the pain certainly didn’t subside, along with your uncontrollable vulgar language. You turn to chillingly glare at Rin, expecting to see him rolling across the beach. But there he was, a blush crawling across the apples of his cheeks, coloring his nose just the same.

“Why the fuck are you embarrassed?!” You shouted as you lift up your leg to rub your foot. “I’m the one that just caught the attention of the whole damn beach!”

You indeed did, scouring the beach to see various life guards and beach bums staring at you two. Rin only moved close to you and rubbed the back of his neck as he avoided your irritated look.

“I’m not embarrassed…” He sightly rolled his eyes, giving you a sly smile. “It’s just….you’re very cute when you curse like that, you know? You’re so proper and quiet, I would have never thought…”

Much to your dismay, Rin never finished his sentence, turning redder and walking off to another direction of the beach.

“Rin?! C'mon, you never would thought what?!” You hop towards Rin, hating how the events have turned for you.

Nothing” Rin laughs and started walking faster once you got near. “It’s too embarrassing.”

“What’s too embarrassing?” You shout as you start chasing him around the sand. “Wait a minute, don’t tell me it’s something dirty…”




Heavy coughs reverberated throughout your whole being as you tried to clear your throat for the millionth time. Your head spun, your body fluctuated between hot and cold, and you couldn’t smell a thing. Coming down with a flu certainly wasn’t fun, especially when sitting on your bed for the whole weekend, staring at the blank ceiling that served no entertainment. There was one perk, however.

“Sou-chan?” You croaked as you sat up and grabbed a clean tissue from the bed side table. “Is the Udon done yet?”

“Yeah, just hold on a second.” A few seconds later you watched, with eyes that struggled to stay open, Sousuke in your small blue apron carrying a tray full of things to make you feel better. Whispering a quite “Here you go, babe”, Sousuke adjusted your flower comforter for you over your lap, setting the tray and feeding you your ibuprofen.

Sousuke…” You groaned as you poked around with your food and felt the steam hit your already burning forehead. “I don’t feel so great.”

“You don’t look so great either” Sousuke’s eyes twinkled as he earned a well deserved shove. “But you will once you eat, so dig in.”

Not putting up with his antics, you pick up one noodle with your chopsticks one by one, letting your tongue stick out and mouth hang. You made various, childish noises as you let each hot noodle pool on your tongue and the soup’s spicy undertones travel down your throat. It was always something you did as a kid, albeit your parents hated the habit.

“Mmm” You praised as you singled out each noodle. “Sousuke, you’re a great cook. Maybe even better than Nanase.”

You brought your head down and slurped one noodle through your lips, shaped like an O as you saw Sousuke’s eyes looking at you in a strange way.

“Hey, why are your ears so red?” You bluntly asked as you cleaned your mouth with a napkin. Sousuke only flashed a sheepish smile at you and shrugged, reaching to feel your soft palm.

“Nothing. You’re just really…” He shifted his droopy orbs to a different direction before looking straight at you. Sousuke’s calloused fingertips massaged on your heated palm distracted you to no avail.


“Come’re” You smirk as you pat a spot on the bed next to you. “I know you’re trying to sweeten me up, calling me something you’d never dare to.”

Still insisting that he honestly believed you were the most adorable thing he’s witnessed, face flushing with every “It’s true!”, Sousuke joined you in your comforter. He removed the tray from the bed and wrapped you in his overwhelmingly comfortable embrace.


  Kisumi nervously waited at the table that was out on the balcony of the restaurant, hands trembling with excitement and nausea. He looked over to the midnight sea and back to the distant door multiple times, wondering why you couldn’t just show up already. So he could just get it over with.

   It was then, when he was about to cancel the fancy and personalized appetizers that were being prepared in the kitchen, that he saw you enter the almost empty restaurant. Hair slightly disheveled and almost no make up left, you made your way in the lavender dress he chose for you. Kisumi recognized you, through all your glory and all your faults in that seemingly inappropriate look and the emotional and mental mess from work that left an arbitrary after glow. How was he ever going to bear what was about to tell you?

“Sorry I’m late” You huffed from a few tables away. Right when Kisumi got up, straightened his tie and walked over to hug and kiss you, a little well dressed toddler ran up to you and engaged in a frustratingly random conversation. Inhaling deeply, Kisumi tapped his foot on the floor and pushed back his messy pink hair in exasperation, hoping you would be irritated as well and would step away. It wasn’t that he didn’t like children, but he needed to tell you something, and he needed to tell you now.

“Sorry” he watched you mouth as you smiled back at the toddler and tried to keep up with the rapid fire of questions. Even as he should’ve been glad to see the little girl’s mother approaching to the two crouched on the carpet, he couldn’t resist the smile that tugged at his lips and the blush that crept upon his nose. He could have been teasing you, but he rather enjoyed watching your eyes twinkle as you cooed and agreed with various things the girl enthused you with; he watched the strand of hair you kept pulling behind your ear as you gushed at her comments, and he listened to the hearty laugh you provided although inside you felt like you could collapse on your feet at any moment.

When the girl disappeared and Kisumi was finally able to take you back out to the balcony, enduring questions such as why his hair was the same color as his skin, there was only one thing he could think of.

I need to say it. I want to marry her. Now.